The Truth About Rachel Read online

  The Truth About Rachel

  A Rachel Emery Novel Book One

  Copyright 2021 © Deanna Lynn Sletten

  Kindle Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author.

  eBook ISBN – 978-1-941212-58-5

  Cover Designer: Deborah Bradseth of Tugboat Design

  Novels by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  The Ones We Leave Behind

  The Women of Great Heron Lake

  Miss Etta

  Night Music

  One Wrong Turn

  Finding Libbie

  Maggie’s Turn

  Under the Apple Blossoms

  Chasing Bailey

  As the Snow Fell

  Walking Sam

  Destination Wedding

  Summer of the Loon

  Sara’s Promise

  Memories

  Widow, Virgin, Whore

  Kiss a Cowboy

  A Kiss for Colt

  Kissing Carly

  Outlaw Heroes

  Contents

  Chapter One

  August 1985

  Chapter Two

  Thirty-five years later

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  August 1985

  Rachel pushed back her long, dark hair as she concentrated on braiding a friendship bracelet. The eight-year-old had recently learned to create the colorful string tokens and spent most of her time, and her small allowance, on making them in multiple colors. Her friend, Amy, sat beside her on the park bench, braiding the string for her own creation. It was a warm, sunny day, typical weather in central California. But the two girls were comfortable in the shade of a large oak tree that swayed gently in the breeze.

  Two teenaged girls rollerbladed past them on the paved path that winded around the park and through the small grove of trees that lined the narrow river. Rachel looked up from her braiding and saw the tall, lanky form of her older brother, Keith. He was near the opening to the river path, his skateboard at his side, his dark, menacing eyes studying the teen girls heading his way. Beside him stood his sidekick, Jeremy Mitchell. Jeremy was two years younger and several inches shorter than Keith, but he was always following the older boy around. Rachel knew that her brother only tolerated Jeremy. He also used him as a punching bag whenever he had the urge to push someone around.

  As Rachel studied her brother, his eyes caught hers, and he smirked. A chill ran through the young girl. Keith had been cruel to her for as long as she could remember. Only their father could control him because Rachel’s mother never paid them any attention. Quickly, Rachel turned her gaze back to making her bracelet.

  A shriek broke through the serenity of the park, causing both Rachel and Amy to look up. Just as Rachel had suspected, her brother had scared the two girls who were rollerblading. One had fallen and scraped her knee, and the other girl was yelling at Keith. Rachel’s brother was laughing hysterically as if the girl falling down was hilarious.

  Amy shook her blond head and returned to the bracelet she was braiding. “Your brother’s a jerk.”

  Rachel sighed. “I know.”

  “My mother didn’t want me at the park today. I had to beg her to come,” Amy said. “She said there’s someone scary around town, hurting women. It was something she saw on the news.”

  Rachel raised her dark brown eyes to meet her friend’s blue ones. “I heard that on the news this morning. My mom was watching it.”

  “Who do you think is hurting women?” Amy asked, her voice low.

  Rachel glanced over to where her brother still stood by the shaded area. The path was thick with trees along the river, and Rachel avoided it. It scared her not knowing who or what could be waiting in the shadows on the path. “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “But as long as we’re together, we should be safe.”

  Amy had brought along two cans of Coke and a fruit roll-up for each of them. The girls stopped braiding long enough to eat the long strips of sticky strawberry-flavored treats and sip their Cokes. Younger children were playing on the swings and slide as their mothers watched from nearby benches. Older children ran around, skateboarded, and rollerbladed. It was hard for Rachel to believe that their tiny town, which was surrounded by farmland, wasn’t safe. Everyone knew everyone’s business. Other than the migrant workers who came during harvest season, the same faces could be seen all over town, day after day.

  As the girls went back to their braiding, a young girl with long, dark hair like Rachel’s approached them. Rachel looked up and smiled. She didn’t recognize the girl, but it didn’t matter. Rachel’s father had taught her to be nice to everyone.

  “Hi,” Rachel said.

  The girl drew nearer. She was the same height as Rachel, and her skin was tan from long days in the sun. Rachel thought she might be the same age as she was.

  “Hi,” the girl said shyly. “What are you making?”

  “Friendship bracelets,” Rachel said. She lifted her arm to show her the yellow and blue one on her wrist. “Like this.”

  “Are they hard to make?” the girl asked.

  “Not really,” Rachel told her. “Would you like me to teach you?”

  The girl’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes.”

  Amy had been quiet, but now she nudged Rachel with her elbow. “Don’t,” she said under her breath.

  Rachel frowned. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t ask her to join us. She’s one of the migrant worker’s kids,” Amy whispered, but it was still loud enough for the girl to hear because Rachel saw her smile fade and shoulders droop.

  “Amy! That’s not nice. And who cares if she is?”

  Amy sighed loudly.

  “Come on over,” Rachel told the girl and saw her eyes brighten again. “What’s your name?”

  She walked up to the picnic table. “Luna. Luna Hernandez.”

  “I told you,” Amy said.

  Rachel shushed her friend. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

  “I don’t care,” Amy said. “My parents told me to stay away from the migrant workers, so if she stays, I’ll have to leave.”

  “My dad is a supervisor at the farm he works for,” Luna said softly. “We’re renting a house down the street. I was born in this country.”

  “See,” Rachel said. “They live here. They aren’t just here for the picking season.”

  Amy began packing her thread into the little case she carried it in. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay with her around. I’m going home.” She stormed off.

  Rachel sighed and turned to Luna. “I’m sorry. She isn’t usually mean.”

  Luna shrugged. “I’ve had that happen a lot. It’s hard making friends with the local kids. I’m glad you were nice to me.”

  Rachel smiled at her.
“Come sit next to me, and I’ll show you how to make a bracelet.”

  Luna did as she was told and watched as Rachel continued braiding the green and red bracelet she’d been working on.

  “See. It’s easy. I’ll help you get started. What colors do you want to make your bracelet?” Rachel asked.

  “I like yours,” Luna said, pointing to Rachel’s wrist.

  “Okay. Blue and yellow.” Soon, Luna was braiding her own bracelet while Rachel finished hers. The two girls talked about school starting up soon, and Rachel learned that Luna was eight and would be in her grade.

  “I’m scared about starting a new school,” Luna said nervously. “Especially since the local kids don’t like migrant children.”

  “I’ll be your friend,” Rachel said. “Hopefully, we’ll be in the same classroom.”

  This seemed to make Luna happy.

  Suddenly, a shadow fell over Rachel, and she looked up to see her brother standing over her.

  “So, who’s your new friend?” Keith asked, leering down at Luna.

  “None of your business. Leave us alone,” Rachel said, pushing down the fear she felt rising inside of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeremy standing on the sidelines. His dirty-blond hair hung around his face, and his eerie dark blue eyes stared directly at her. If Keith started harassing them, Rachel knew that Jeremy wouldn’t help her or Luna.

  “Don’t be such a little bitch,” Keith said to his sister. He eyed Luna. “You’re kind of pretty, for a kid.

  “Keith!” Rachel yelled. “Stop it!”

  Luna cowered at the table while Keith laughed.

  “Come on, Jeremy. They’re too young for us—now. Maybe in a few years,” Keith said, laughing wickedly.

  To Rachel’s relief, they left.

  “Luna,” she said to her new friend. “Stay as far away from Keith and Jeremy as you can. They’re not nice.”

  Luna nodded, her face looking frightened. “I will.”

  Rachel and Luna finished braiding their bracelets, and Luna proudly wore hers on her wrist.

  “We’re twins now,” Rachel said, both girls holding their wrists up next to each other. If anyone had been watching them, they would have sworn the girls were sisters.

  The two girls said their goodbyes and went their separate ways toward home. It was almost five, and Rachel knew her mother would expect her back at the house.

  There were nice homes and shabby homes in their neighborhood, and to Rachel’s embarrassment, theirs was shabby. It was a small bungalow with a Spanish tile roof that was in need of a paint job. The shutters hung crookedly next to the windows, and the front door, which was once red, was peeling and tired looking. Rachel’s father was away several days a week, trucking, and her mother spent most of her days inside, watching talk shows and drinking beer. Rachel never knew what her mother’s mood would be like when she walked inside the house.

  Rachel smiled when she saw her aunt and uncle’s station wagon parked at the curb. She adored her Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordy. Julie Scott was her mother’s much younger sister. She had the prettiest curly auburn hair, and her blue eyes twinkled when she looked at Rachel. She was the opposite of Rachel’s mother, who was overweight with bleached blond hair and wrinkles forming around her mouth from smoking. Aunt Julie was smart, too. She’d graduated college—the only one in her family to do so—and worked in an accounting firm. Her Uncle Gordy was successful too, and very kind. Rachel always loved it when they came over to see her.

  Walking up their cracked cement driveway to the kitchen door, Rachel was about to climb the steps of the small stoop when she heard loud voices inside. She froze. Rachel knew immediately that her aunt and mother were arguing again.

  “You can’t have her!” Rachel’s mother yelled. “She’s mine, and I’m keeping her.”

  “Judy, please,” Julie pleaded. “We could give her a good life. You don’t even want her. You sit in here all day and smoke and drink and watch TV. Where we’re going, Rachel could have a nice home in a good area and grow up to be anything she wants.”

  “No!” Judy said. “Get out. You can move anywhere you want, but you can’t take her.”

  Rachel jumped when she heard something hit the back door and shatter on the kitchen floor. She backed up, away from the stoop. Once her mother was angry enough to throw things, it got ugly.

  “Fine. We didn’t want to do it, but we’ll get lawyers involved,” Julie yelled. A moment later, Julie and Gordy rushed out of the house, as another item hit the back door. Julie’s face looked shocked when she saw Rachel standing there.

  “Oh. Dear. I didn’t know you were out here,” Aunt Julie said, her face softening. “How long have you been here?”

  Rachel didn’t want her aunt to know she’d heard anything. “I just got here,” she told her.

  Julie looked relieved when she heard this. “We’re just leaving,” she said, hugging Rachel. She pulled back and gazed into Rachel’s eyes. “You’d like to live with us, wouldn’t you? I mean, if I can talk your mother into it.”

  Rachel didn’t understand why her aunt kept fighting her mother for custody of her, but she kind of liked the idea. She adored her father, but her mother and brother were always mean to her. She knew her aunt and uncle would be nice to live with. Not wanting to hurt her aunt’s feelings, she said, “I would like that.”

  Julie smiled. “We’re going to make it happen. I promise.” She hugged Rachel once more, and then she and Gordy hurried off to their car.

  Taking a deep breath, Rachel quietly entered the kitchen and turned left to go down the hallway bypassing the living room where her mother was watching the news. There was nothing cooking for dinner. Rachel knew that meant they’d eat hot dogs or lunchmeat sandwiches—again.

  Stopping a moment in the hall, she listened to the newscaster talking about another local murder.

  “A third woman in the San Joaquin Valley has been found dead in her home. It’s suspected she’d been raped and murdered in the same manner as the two earlier victims. She’s identified as Edith Arlington and lived on Third Street.”

  Rachel frowned. She wasn’t sure what the word rape meant, but she understood murder. Edith Arlington. That name was familiar. As she stood there thinking, she realized the woman lived only two blocks over from them and that she’d been one of the people her brother used to mow the lawn for last summer.

  Suddenly, Rachel was grabbed from behind, her thread box falling to the floor. An arm was wrapped tightly around her neck, squeezing the air out of her. Frightened, Rachel struggled, pulling on the arm to get free. The attacker laughed, and she knew immediately it was her brother. She kicked her feet and pulled at his arm, but he held on tight. Rachel tried to call out to her mother, but she could barely breathe, let alone yell. She reached up behind her, her arms flailing, and made contact with his face. Her fingernails dug into his skin, and he yelped when she scratched him.

  “Little bitch!” Keith yelled, choking her tighter.

  “Let her go!” a deep male voice demanded.

  Keith instantly let go of Rachel, and she dropped to the floor like a ragdoll. “We were just playing around,” he said.

  Rachel’s father took a menacing step toward Keith. “Never touch your sister again,” he ordered.

  Keith snorted. “Sister. Right.”

  “Keith. That’s enough,” their father growled. Keith stared at their father warily and finally backed away and headed for his bedroom, slamming the door.

  Frank Parnell squatted down and studied his daughter as she tried to catch her breath. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone gentle.

  She nodded. He helped her pick up the thread box and offered her a hand up. She was so happy to see her father that she hugged him tightly.

  “Well, that’s a nice greeting,” he said, smiling at her.

  She grinned back. Her father wasn’t as tall as Keith, but he was stocky, and when he got angry, he could look menacing. He could have taken out Keith with one
blow, but that wasn’t her father’s way. He was a kind man and used his words, unlike her brother.

  “What’s going on in there?” Judy yelled from the living room sofa. “I can’t hear the TV.”

  Rachel watched her father shake his head. “Well, it looks like there’s no dinner cooking tonight. How about you and I go pick up burgers and fries for dinner?”

  The little girl nodded vigorously. Going anywhere with her father was better than being at home.

  Frank looked down at her box. “What’s in there?”

  “String to make friendship bracelets,” she said.

  “Like the one on your wrist?”

  “Yeah.”

  He smiled. “It’s pretty. Like you.” He winked, and Rachel’s heart jumped. Together, they headed out the kitchen door to his pick-up truck to get dinner.

  ***

  The next day was dreary looking, and it felt like it might rain, but Rachel didn’t let that stop her. After making her bed and eating a bowl of Fruit Loops, she grabbed a juice box out of the fridge, tucking it in the small bag she carried, and headed to the park. She hoped that Amy would be there so they could make up from their argument the day before. If not, maybe Luna would join her, and they could play together.

  Rachel knew her brother had left earlier that morning and would most likely be skateboarding at the park with Jeremy. Ever since he’d grabbed her last night, he’d kept his distance because their father was home. Keith knew he couldn’t get away with his usual antics while their father was around. Earlier, Rachel had caught a glimpse of Keith as he’d walked out of the bathroom, and she’d smiled to herself. The scratches she’d given his face while he was choking her were prominent. For once, she’d gotten him back for being mean to her.

  It was cooler than the day before, so Rachel had slipped her faded jean jacket on over her oversized yellow T-shirt and acid-wash jeans. She’d begged her mother for days on end last Christmas for the jacket, and even though it was the only present she’d received, she’d been thrilled. Many of the girls in their school had stylish new clothes, and some wore hand-me-downs. Most of Rachel’s clothes were bought in the second-hand shop, so having a brand-new jacket was a treat.